Rook and Ronin Company Box Set: Books 6-9 (JA Huss Box Set Series Order Book 2)

by JA Huss

  Get up, Jax! But that’s not Adam, it’s me. I’m screaming at myself to get up. I roll over on my side, my whole body on fire with the agony of taking a bullet to the chest. I reach under my jacket for my weapon and open my eyes just in time to see Adam go reeling to the side, hitting the ground face first.

  Max walks towards him, his gun raised, his mouth moving a mile a minute. I hear nothing but gunshots as they echo through my mind.

  He set me up. All these years, that fucker set me up. I spent my whole adult life seeking revenge. For what? So that this asshole could swoop in and take over what’s left of the Company?

  I force my upper body up, propping my weight with my elbows, and hold the gun out in front of me. I don’t waste time telling Max to stop or put up his hands.

  I just shoot him the only way he deserves. In the back.

  He stumbles forward one step, squeezing the trigger on his gun out of reflex, and then falls down on top of Adam.

  I close my eyes, giving myself this one moment to let the sting of betrayal wash over me. And then I roll back on the ground, blindly reach for my phone, and press the speed-dial app for 911.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven - Sasha

  I don’t know what I thought I’d find at the safe house, but four dead people in the front yard didn’t even make the top one hundred.

  I take in the scene like the professional I used to be. Three unmarked government cars haphazardly parked in the driveway, all with engines running. The front door to the house wide open. And complete silence within.

  “Sasha,” Harrison says, tugging on my coat. “Let’s call James.”

  “No,” I whisper, crouching in the cover of some trees near the road. “No. James finished his job a long time ago. Now it’s time for me to finish mine.”

  I don’t even have a gun, so this is one hundred percent nuts. But so many people could have killed me already so many times. This can’t be about killing me. They need me alive.

  So I straighten myself out and walk down the driveway. My feet are crunching in the frozen gravel and the wind is blowing my hair in front of my eyes, making me more nervous than I already am because no amount of wiping it away will make it behave.

  It’s dark inside, but I can see bodies before I even make it to the threshold. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”

  “The Company happened, Sasha.” Nick’s voice from within.

  I step forward into the house and a hand reaches out and makes a futile attempt to grab my pant leg.

  “Help,” Madrid says, one hand holding the hole in her stomach and blood gurgling out of her mouth. Her fist isn’t strong enough to stop me, so I just walk past and it slips away. There’s no help for her. I know what a gunshot wound to the stomach means.

  “Are you surprised it’s gonna end this way, Sasha?” Nick is sitting in a chair on the opposite wall. He’s bleeding too, and there’s a 9mm revolver at his feet and a cell phone in his hand.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. “Just what the fuck are you doing?” I look around me, counting up the bodies. Three people dead in here, including Madrid, and four outside.

  “Just sending someone a text, Smurf.”

  Seven FBI agents dead and he’s texting? “They’re gonna kill you, Nick. They’re never gonna let you walk away from this. So just what the fuck?”

  Nick stands, wincing in pain from the wound in his thigh. He’s got a belt cinched tightly, just below his hip, in a makeshift tourniquet. And his head is bleeding pretty good too.

  “You need help,” I say, not sure if I mean he’s gone batshit crazy now for sure, or if he needs medical attention. Both, I guess.

  “He missed so much, Sasha. But I didn’t.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? What the fuck are you doing? You’re ruining everything! They’re gonna kill you now, you asshole! They are never gonna let you get away with this!”

  He laughs, but it turns into a cough. “Oh, but I will, Sasha.” He laughs again, even though I can tell it hurts him. “I always get away. Everyone knows that. But you’re here now. And you’re the only person who can save me.” His laugh turns into a hitch, and then a sob escapes as a tear slides down his cheek.

  I step forward, not knowing what to think about this Nick. I’ve never seen him cry. Ever. Not even when he told me to go live my life without him and I was blubbering like a baby, begging him to love me.

  “Don’t cry, Nick, please.” I can’t take it. I really can’t. Nick is a rock. Nick is the man who moves mountains. I walk forward quickly and pull him into a hug. “We’re gonna be OK. I’ll save you, Nick. I swear. I’ll save you. Just please don’t give up.”

  He sniffs and wipes his face with the back of his bloody hand, leaving a streak of red across his cheek. “I didn’t miss anything, Sasha. I swear.” And then he points to the wall that holds all the pictures Jax has of me. I look off to the side and Nick reaches for my hand as it sinks in.

  The white spaces are gone. Every inch of that wall is filled up with me, starting with the day I sat out on Ford Aston’s front stoop on Christmas Eve holding a kitten in my lap. The one-year anniversary of my dad’s death. The first day of my new life.

  “I saw everything, Sasha Aston. Everything. I never left you, I watched you from Honduras.” He leans over and kisses me on the head. “I had dozens of people watching you. I was always there, even when I wasn’t. They sent me updates every week. No matter where you were, no matter what you were doing. I did it with you.”

  There are hundreds of pictures of me. My beach vacations in New Zealand with Ford and Ash and the babies. My first year in a real school, dressed up in a Catholic girl uniform. Me and Five’s face-eating dog, Jimmy, who latched on to me like I was his best friend, when really he was all I had back then in the way of friends. My private high school in Denver, when we moved to my new grandma’s house next to City Park so all five of us could stay together and keep me safe at the same time. Running the steps with Ford at Coor’s Field. Me pushing Five and Kate in a stroller in Japan that summer Ashleigh went back to school to finish her master’s and I played mommy. My first date. Ford catching that boy trying to kiss me on the porch when he brought me home. College at The School of Mines. The day I met my first serious boyfriend at a baseball game, and the day after we broke up when I made myself go home and cry to Ashleigh.

  I look over at Nick and he’s smiling. “It wasn’t a bad life, right?”

  I shake my head and feel the tears fall. “It was good, Nick.” I have to hold in a sob before I can finish. “It was better than good. Just like you said it would be. You saved me. Just tell me what to do and I’ll save you back, OK? I’ll save you back. I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll find a way to give you as good a life as you gave me.”

  “My life is over, Sasha.” He holds me by the shoulders as he turns me around to face the wall that holds the pictures of him. There were already hundreds of images on that wall before. But now there are hundreds more. “Those are the pictures Jax didn’t put up.” He leans his head on mine as I take them in.

  Bodies.

  Dozens and dozens of pictures of dead bodies. Piles of them. Blood, everywhere.

  And Nick. In every bloody photo there is Nick holding a gun. Small handguns. Rifles. Shotguns. AKs.

  “I’m already dead, Sasha.” He puts something cold in my hand and I hold it up to see what it is. The FBI badge that Jax made for me. It dangles on the beaded chain. Nick takes it from my hand and slips the chain over my head like a necklace. “But not dead enough.”

  He looks me in the eyes as I stare at him, shaking my head.

  “Save me, Sasha Cherlin.” And then he pulls out a FN Five-SeveN from the waistband of his jeans and places the weapon in my hand. “Save me, Sasha. I’m begging you.”

  “No.” I start to cry. “No.”

  He places my finger on the trigger of the gun and lifts it up to his forehead. I try to pull back, but he wraps my hand in both of his and holds it in place.

 
; The womp-womp sound of helicopters thunders over the house and we both look up at the ceiling, like we can see through it. Like we can see the future that is unfolding before us.

  “Shoot me, Sasha. I’m begging you. If you love me—if you ever loved me—kill me now. Before they come and take me away and make me continue living this hell my parents sentenced me to twenty-eight years ago.”

  “I won’t do it,” I sob. “I can’t do it, Nick. Don’t make me do this.”

  “Shhhh,” he says, taking a deep breath and stopping his own crying. “Just listen,” he whispers. “Just listen to me. They take the girls, Sasha. They take the girls and turn them into monsters. And I did my best, kid. I did. But they train them as fast as I can kill them. Right now, I’m winning. I have killed so many fucked-up Zeros, I lost count. But right now, Sasha, this moment in time, I’m winning. I got so many kids. I got twice as many parents. I have literally killed thousands of people, even if it wasn’t by my own hand. I’m winning. They’re all dead.”

  He stops holding my hands on the gun and holds my face instead. “They’re all dead except for us. But if we don’t change the game in a big way, they’ll just keep doing it. I’m the leader, Sasha. I am the Company. And if you end me, that’s something they won’t ignore. If you end me, it sends a message that you’ll end them too. Whoever is left will get that message loud and clear. We won, Sasha. We won. And will always win because you, and James, and Merc, and Harper, and Sydney… and Jax. You six will do whatever it takes to make it stop.”

  I stare at him, not even knowing what to say to all that.

  “Kate. Think of your little sister. They’ll come take her, Sasha. Some nobody will get big ideas and they’ll come steal her away in the night and ruin her future, just like they ruined ours.”

  The helicopters are louder now, and then a wind blows in through the front door as they try to land nearby.

  “They’ll be here in a minute or less, Sash. And if you let them take me, they’ll lock me up. But one day, because of what I do and who I am, I’ll get out.” He squeezes my face to make this point. “I’ll. Get. Out. And then I’ll come for Kate myself. Because that’s my job. I am the Company. That’s who I am, Sasha Cherlin.” He holds up my badge, dangling from my neck, and puts it right in front of my face. “And this is who you are. So do your job, Sasha Aston. Do your job or I will come back one day and get her.”

  Men are shouting out in the yard now, and I hear boots storming for the door.

  “I’ll torture her, Sasha. The way Garrett tortured you two years ago. I’ll find her, take her, drug her, rape—”

  I squeeze the trigger just as the light flooding through the front door is masked with men in Kevlar vests and riot gear.

  “Drop your weapon!” they shout. “Drop your weapon and put your face on the ground!”

  I drop the gun and fall to my knees. Shocked. Too shocked to react as reality sinks in.

  The men push me to the floor face-first, handcuff me, and flip me over on my back.

  That’s when they see my badge sitting on my stomach, hanging off that chain that Nick put around my neck. One guy lifts his visor up on his helmet and reaches for it.

  “Sasha Aston,” I say. “FBI.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight - Sasha

  They lead me out of the house. It takes two of them to keep me upright because my legs are not working. “Shock,” the guy on my left says, as he hands me off to someone else. “She’s OK, she’s just in shock.”

  The new guy hugs me tight. “Sasha,” Jax says, his whole body trembling. “Sasha, look at me.”

  I look up at his face. His blue eyes are filled with more fear than I’ve ever seen. I start to cry and bury my head in his chest.

  “Say something,” he whispers into my neck. “Say something so I know you’re OK.”

  “I killed him, Jax. He tricked me. He tricked me into shooting him point-blank in the head.”

  Jax says nothing to that, just holds me tight and walks me out to the ambulance so they can take a look at me. Make sure I’m OK. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be OK. I’m not sure if killing Nick will end my life or save it.

  I’m only sure of one thing right now.

  Nick Tate is a liar. Nick Tate is a liar and I fell for it. I let him goad me into ending his life. I let my love for Kate and my fear of Garrett control me.

  I know in my heart there’s no way Nick would ever hurt Kate. Never. Not in a million years.

  He made me kill him. He made me do my job.

  And I might never forgive him for that. I might hate him until the end of time for making me do that.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine - Jax

  I pace in front of the ambulance as they check her over, worried out of my mind even though none of the blood belongs to her. I can’t help it. I lost a lot today and I can’t bear the thought of losing her too. I need to know she’s OK. Not physically. Mentally. What can she possibly be thinking right now? After all that talk of saving Nick. What is running through her mind now that the shock is wearing off and she has to come to terms with what she did?

  It takes them thirty minutes to declare her fine, and then they hand her back off to me. She looks me up and down and I’m waiting for it. I’m waiting for what I know is surely floating around in her head right now.

  You got what you wanted.

  But I didn’t. I didn’t get what I wanted. I never wanted this.

  I hold my breath when she opens her mouth to speak.

  “Where the hell did you get a Kevlar shirt made by Roberto Moreno Diseñador?”

  I laugh, I can’t help it. “Who?”

  “That shirt.” She sniffs. Her crying stopped as soon as she got to the ambulance. Sasha Aston is not a crier. Not in front of anyone but me, anyway. “It’s a Roberto shirt. That’s his logo on the pocket.”

  I look down at the white dress shirt parading as a Kevlar vest. It’s got a hole in it, right in the center of my chest where Max shot me. But sure enough, Sasha’s finger traces a logo embroidered with white thread, so that you can’t see it unless you know what to look for.

  “That’s how James shot me, Jax. When everyone thought I was dead. He gave me a Roberto original. Where did you get this?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. It was on the plane when I went to meet Adam this morning. He had one too. And it was a good thing, because Max Barlow shot us both. These designer shirts saved our lives.”

  “There’s something in the pocket.” She unbuttons it and withdraws a key. We both stare at it for several seconds, confused.

  “Sasha!” her pilot friend calls from across the yellow police-line tape. “Sasha!”

  We walk over there together. Her legs are steady now, but we’re both silent as we think about these shirts. Putting the pieces together in a new way.

  “I’m OK, Harrison,” Sasha says when we get close enough. “I’m fine, but Nick…” She stops talking to stop the tears.

  Harrison holds her from across the tape. They embrace like that for a few minutes and then he pulls back and extends his hand. “I’m Sasha’s friend, Harrison.”

  “Jax,” I say, unable to call myself by my last name. I just can’t be a Barlow anymore. Not after what I found out today.

  “I have a message from Nick, Sasha. He sent me a text just before that gunshot.”

  “What?” Sasha looks at the cell phone Harrison is holding out to her. “What’s it say?”

  “Read it,” Harrison replies. “I have no idea what it means.”

  Sasha takes the phone and squints down at the message.

  “Well?” I say, impatient. “Tell me what he says.”

  She looks up at me, her face changing from confusion to understanding before my eyes. “It says, I left you a gift at that hotel room.”

  My own understanding creeps in slowly. “The hotel where he left you ten years ago?”

  She nods up at me.

  “Let’s go,” Harrison says. “We can be in Rock Springs, Wyoming in three
and a half hours.” He doesn’t wait for us to answer, just takes off across the field in the direction of the airstrip here in Falls City.

  Sasha walks off after him, not even looking back at me.

  And I follow. With a new appreciation for what it means to be friends with Sasha Aston.

  People love her fiercely. She’s right. They will die for her. Even sick and twisted fucks like Nick Tate will give their lives for her. Carting her ass around in a private plane is nothing to this pilot.

  He’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy, no questions asked.

  And so will I.

  Chapter Forty - Jax

  The three of us are a nervous wreck as Sasha pushes her key into the door of the hotel room she shared with Nick ten years ago. She takes a sharp inhale, then twists the key and turns the handle.

  The cock of shotguns make us all freeze in the blowing snow, but Sasha, confident in her trust of Nick’s final message, pushes the door open anyway.

  The two men lower their weapons and come forward, only to be pushed out of the way by two women.

  There is shouting—the good kind—and crying. Also the good kind. And she is folded into a foursome embrace for several long seconds.

  They notice Harrison next, and the greeting starts again, but this time only from the men, who slap him on the back as they usher us forward into the room. A moment later the door is closed and the room goes dim because the curtains are drawn tight.

  I look around, stunned.

  Stunned faces look back at me.

  There are six girls pressed up against the far wall near the bathroom. Three who look to be sisters under five. One who looks to be a teen, holding a baby. And one who sits alone at the small table, a book clutched to her chest and her feet swinging like she hasn’t got a care in the world. She looks up at me with her brown eyes and she smiles. And then she takes an envelope out of her book and places it on the table, pushing it towards me with one pink finger. “He said to give you that.”